


Prodigal Son

by silvertrails



Series: Second Age Arc [9]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 00:06:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17570504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvertrails/pseuds/silvertrails
Summary: Oropher's younger son comes back home.





	Prodigal Son

**Prodigal son  
By CC   
October, 2013**

This story is an amateur effort and does not intend to infringe on the rights of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit is made and no harm is intended. 

This story is set in the Second Age, after the sack of Eregion. Oropher lives in Amon Lanc with his family. Eleborn is Thranduil’s younger brother and my character. I also gave a name to Oropher’s wife. 

This ficlet was written for Luin77. Happy Birthday!

 

Oropher looked at his younger son, still unable to believe that Eleborn was back. He had disappeared a year before Eitheleth was killed, after a nasty argument with Thranduil. Oropher had looked for him, but it had been as if he had fallen off the face of Arda. Eitheleth had never given up hope to find their son alive, and now Eleborn was back, standing before Oropher in his study, looking pale and thin. Oropher was so glad to see his son that he was having trouble restraining himself from embracing him. 

Eleborn had always been a difficult son, ready to make mischief at any moment while he was an Elfling, and rebellious and unwilling to follow rules once he grew up. He would drive Thranduil crazy, and as they grew up, their misunderstandings had become more serious. Eleborn had a good heart, though, which was perhaps the reason why everybody loved him. 

“Father…”

“What happened to you, my son?”

Eleborn swayed on his feet suddenly, and Oropher could no longer hold back. He rushed to embrace his youngest son, holding him close for a moment before leading him to an armchair. Out of the corner of his eye, Orpher saw Thranduil, standing at the entrance of his study, his body rigid with what could only be tension.

“I was coming back home, Papa,” Eleborn said quietly, unaware of his brother’s presence. “I was coming back, I swear it, but I was… delayed.”

“Delayed?” Thranduil exclaimed, obviously unable to hold his temper any “longer. “Mother is dead, Eleborn! She was never the same after you left! How could you stay away for so long? We believed you dead!”

Eleborn started. “Brother…”

“Don’t call me brother!”

“That’s enough, Thranduil.”

Eleborn stood. “I know that Mama is dead. I managed to escape my captors a few months ago, but I was taken prisoner by a band of Orcs. I escaped again, but… they took me away from here. I would have been here earlier, but as I said, I was delayed.”

Thranduil stared at his brother in mute shock, while Oropher scrutinized his youngest face, only then seeing the obvious marks of his captivity. Eleborn was not only pale and thin, but there were bruises on his neck and wrists.

_How could I not notice it?_

“Who were your captors, son?” 

“Corrupted Men who served the Dark Lord. I was their slave for years. They tricked me, and imprisoned me. I was not allowed to die… A spell… I would have died before allowing them to…”

Thranduil looked as shaken as Oropher was. “Do not speak of death. I am sorry, son. We looked for you, but we were never able to find any trace, any sign of your path…”

“It was my fault for straying away into those lands without an escort. I was irresponsible and that was my punishment. I should have been here, Papa. Thranduil has every right to be angry, and so have you.”

“I was angry,” Thranduil said quietly, “and I said things I didn’t mean to say. I should have stopped you from leaving. It was… a silly argument. I am sorry.”

“Nobody could have stopped me back then,” Eleborn said. “I was away when you two most needed me, when Mama needed me.”

“You could not have known, Eleborn,” Oropher said, taking his younger son’s hands. “Promise me that you will not leave again, not alone, and not in anger.”

Eleborn nodded. “I promise, Papa.”

Thranduil opened the cabinet and poured a cup of wine for Eleborn. It was medicinal, Oropher noticed. “Drink slowly,” Thranduil said. 

“Thank you, brother.”

Oropher looked at his sons. “You are brothers, and I want you to come to terms with your differences. I need you both with me, my sons. We have a duty to our people, and it is what your mother would expect from us.”

Thranduil nodded and placed a hand on Eleborn’s shoulder. “Come with me, brother. You need to eat something and rest. We will speak about everything once you are feeling better.”

Eleborn nodded, and caught Thranduil into a fierce embrace. “I have missed you, Thranduil.”

“Thranduil returned the embrace awkwardly. “Don’t you ever leave like that again, do you hear me?”

“I won’t.” 

Thranduil placed an arm around Eleborn’s shoulders and led him out of the study. Once they were gone, Oropher sat down on the chair Eleborn had vacated, face buried in his hands. 

“Our youngest son is back, Eitheleth,” he whispered. “Our sons are friends again. I wish you were here to see it.”

A soft wind came out of nowhere, almost a caress, and settled on his lips like a kiss. Oropher smiled softly, thanking the Lady for this. Eitheleth knew, he was certain of it, and she was at peace.


End file.
